


“I am sorry.”

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Destruction, Domestic Disputes, F/M, Irony, The Valar, Years of the Lamps, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Morgoth thinks he's a good husband.  Nienna has a different opinion.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Nienna
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24
Collections: Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GloomyCamomile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloomyCamomile/gifts).



> Written for TRSB2020. The artwork is by GloomyChamomile and can be found here: https://gloomy-makes-art.tumblr.com/post/627344317284057088/my-piece-for-the-trsb2020-tolkienrsb-the-last
> 
> I did the writing, and it was really a lot of fun to work through how this couple would have functioned, well, as a couple, especially in all of the most dramatic times of the Valar. Betaing was done by Narvaeril <3.
> 
> -Zhie

“I am sorry.”

The devastation was severe. Everywhere she looked, there were shadows of destruction, from the swirling miasma within the waters to the debris on the shores. Her lashes fluttered, tears weighing them down. She wanted to step away. Instead, she moved forward, her bare feet sinking into the sloppy wet sand of the beach. 

From where he sat on the driftwood log, he looked like a lost child. Was that so far off? It was what her brothers often emphasized. She took a long look at him before she closed her eyes. As she opened them again, he looked about to speak, but she held up her hand.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Her words for others were often soft whispers, but with him she was bitter and harsh. She had to be. She was entitled to be. “Father has a very specific design for all of us. You need to stop twisting His plans to your will. There is something seriously wrong with you. We are indebted to Uinen for talking sense into Ossë.”

“Is that what they sent you to do? Talk sense into me?”

“You most certainly need it.” Nienna took a step closer, yet kept her distance. “Why would you do such a thing? You know that the Maiar do not have the power we do! You make promises you are unable to keep, and promises you are unworthy to make.”

Melkor clenched his jaw. “Exactly what am I worthy to do? Nothing, it would reason. To each of you, a great gift has been given. To me, a share of each--and yet, if I so much as suggest that I might have ideas and ways to utilize those talents, I am cast aside! Why can I not take my turn to control the sea?” He thrust an arm out in the direction of the waves that crashed against a rocky alcove. The waters were far calmer than they had been in some time.

“You sought not to control the sea, but to control those who control the sea. And you should not be concentrating on the sea at all! That domain is beyond you!”

“Is that not how Ulmo keeps control of the waters? If he had control without the control of others, he would not need Ossë to do his work! That Maia is like me. He has great strength and ferocity, and he is subdued by...others.” The rush of words slowed at the end and he looked away from her again.

“Subdued by his wife.” Nienna loomed over him. “Perhaps that was our Father’s intention for marriage.”

Melkor rolled his eyes. “You think he created you to subdue me?”

“I think he created me for a greater purpose than that,” Nienna replied. This was not the first time they were in such a situation, nor was this the first Maia he had attempted to corrupt. Enlighten, he would argue. Empower, he might think. This time, the conversation began far differently than in the past. Only due to his apology was she even still here. That detail needed to be addressed. “Exactly why are you sorry?”

“Excuse me?”

“You began our conversation with an apology. Or has that been redacted?”

“No. I am sorry.” He even covered his face with his hand. 

“I see. Sorry that you were caught, or sorry that you need answer to your brother, or something else?”

“I am sorry I disappointed you.” Melkor rubbed his face and looked back out over the sea. “There is much more I wish to give to you. You deserve to be Queen; it should be us ruling, not Manwë and Varda.”

Nienna shook her head. “We are as was intended. I do not need a throne on high. Neither do you.”

“But I feel so...useless.” He closed his eyes and sighed, and Nienna bit her tongue and looked away. It was a common phrase for him to utter, both in private and public. “I want to be...more. I want to be better.”

“You realize that those are not synonymous. You can be better, much better, great even, without being more than you are.”

“What nonsense!” Melkor kicked into the wet sand, but instead of launching a clump of it across the beach, his heavy foot sank into the damp grains. “If I cannot become more than I am already, I cannot be better! I would simply...be.”

“I see nothing inherently wrong with that--but listen to your words, you fool!” There was a chance they were being listened to, and Nienna made all attempts for their marital disputes to be held in private, but attempted corruption after attempted corruption became taxing after a time. “You take what you have, and you polish it. You hone the skills you were given. Practice. Practice makes you better.”

“Better at being second best at everything?” This time he slammed his fist down on the log, and he had the satisfaction of splintering off a sizable chunk of wood. He picked it up and flung it out into the ocean, where it was swallowed into the waves. “Everyone gets to have something special. I get nothing,” he growled. 

“Do you ever think of how I feel when you say these things?” 

Melkor looked up. His ears bent down and backwards shamefully. “Besides you,” you mumbled.

“In light of your behavior, I suspect you never loved me at all.”

It was a low blow, but arguably deserved. His left ear twitched. It always did when he was truly hurt. “Of course I love you,” he spat back.

“Your actions hardly show it,” Nienna said. She circled her husband, casting her gaze down upon him as he picked up a splintered piece of the log and fidgeted with it. “It is weary work, to defend you from your brother’s ire.”

“But you shall defend me?” It was hard to determine if the words were a question, a plea, or a dictate. 

“I already have defended you. I may not like what you are doing; I may despise it with the whole of my being. In the end, I am loyal, as your wife, and I seek to see you not just reprimanded, but reformed.”

“That...does not sound like much of a defense,” Melkor worried. 

“I said I would defend you. What I will not defend are your ideas, your actions, your silly games you play with the hearts and minds of the Maiar, and all other discord you are responsible for.” Nienna stopped her encircling, placed her hands on his shoulder, and looked at him squarely. “You need to stop persuading the Maiar to betray their mistresses and masters.”

“Maybe if I had some Maiar who were loyal to me, I would not be forced to seek out the Maiar of others!”

“Maybe if you were not so damned self-centered and egotistical, some of them would have willingly followed you!”

The left ear twitched again. “Do you know how frustrating that is? How frustrating all of this is? I have no one. No one,” he emphasized.

“You have me,” Nienna said, willing her voice not to break. 

Abruptly, the topic changed. “I hate this place. I absolutely hate it. I hate everything about it.”

Nienna stood up straight again. “Then I suppose you hate me, too,” she said.

“You know that is not what I meant!” Melkor hit the log, but his strength was not in it this time, and his fist only dented the wood. “You know I love you. Even now, when you should not have willingly come, here you are, and having spoken on my behalf. How can I even aspire to be like you? You are practically perfect. Calm; well-organized. Beautiful. I am none of those things, nor will I ever be. Do you know what a curse it is to be as I am? To know so little about so much, and to be accused of stealing away the talents of others if I try to better what skills I have?”

She did not allow herself to be baited into an argument or discussion on any one of the many random thoughts her husband was having. Instead, she focused back on the earlier theme. “You say that I should know that you love me. I find it difficult to be convinced that someone can love another person if they cannot love themself.”

Before Melkor could make a rebuttal, Eönwë was there with them. “The time has come for judgement, and judged ye shall be.”

Melkor stood, embracing a persona of arrogant indifference. “Whatever,” he said as he rolled his eyes and walked past Nienna to follow Eönwë.

Nienna shook her head and sat down where her husband had vacated. There was a time when she did not frown every time he spoke, nor cringe every time someone spoke of him. He was different then. 

Everything was different then.


	2. Chapter 2

Before anything was to come into being, a time there was when the Valar conceived of a world to come. It was the Time of Thought, where in a shared consciousness they planned and crafted based upon the thoughts given to them by Eru in the Song. 

In the Time of Thought, the Gardens of Lórien were one of Nienna’s favorite places. It was where she and her brothers had first perceived their kinship, when the grass there was soft and new, and the trees were but sketches in Yavanna’s mind. Now the land was fully in bloom, with the floral fragrance wafting around her wherever she walked. Scent was one of Nienna’s favorite new things. The idea that there would be an essence to everything that could be known by those nearby was a wonder, and it was always with great excitement that she would smell each conception Vána presented to her. 

Nienna sat now in a clearing, watching a trio of deer. While they did not yet have a true physical form, in the consciousness of all, they acted as they would when made of bone and flesh. They were grazing peacefully as she marveled at the individuality of the blades of grass surrounding her. One of them flicked its ears suddenly; another raised its head and froze. They cautiously edged aside as another Vala entered into the clearing. 

In those days, Melkor was fairer than most saw him when they encountered him later. In his mind and the minds of others, as Manwë’s brother, he was equally as handsome and radiant as his calmer sibling. The world was new, and there were many animals to form and plants to name, and Melkor greatly desired to be part of these tasks. 

He also greatly desired to be part of Nienna’s life.

“My love, I bring to you for your approval, my humble attempts to show that I, too, can cultivate flora.” Melkor presented to Nienna a bouquet of white and purple flowers, which she accepted from him with a smile as he sat down with her in the grass.

“Have you named them as well?”

“I have not,” he said solemnly. “I wish for your approval first. I will feel less bad if they are worthy only of destruction if they do not have names to be remembered by.”

Nienna spread the flowers over the ground so that she could examine the different types individually. “These are lovely,” she said as she picked up delicate stems of tiny weeping white bells.

“I took the lilies that Vána created and made them smaller and more fragrant,” said Melkor excitedly. Nienna sniffed at the flowers and smiled in approval. “They are hearty and can grow in many places.”

“Are they edible? Medicinal?”

Melkor excitedly answered without pause, “Poisonous. Ingesting them would be deadly for just about anything.”

“Why?”

Melkor blinked. “I made them to be pretty. For you. If they are edible they will be eaten. If they are medicinal they will be crushed. I do not want anyone destroying them--and if they do, the consequences will be most severe.”

“And these flowers? Are they poisonous as well?”

“No,” answered Melkor swiftly. As Nienna touched the purple star-shaped flowers, he added, “Their berries are, though. Please do not eat them.”

She looked up and blinked with emotionless expression. “I can almost understand a flower that is poisonous, but you made a fruit poisonous? There are creatures that will eat these.”

“Someone should tell them not to.”

“Or...you could make the flowers and berries not poisonous. Yes, some will explore, and find the flowers useless, or you could just make the berries bitter so that no one eats them. But why do you need to make them dangerous?” She had more to say, but there was hurt in Melkor’s eyes, and she stopped to listen to his thoughts.

“They are not useless. They are meant as a gift to you.” He seemed about to snatch the bouquet back, but at the last moment his hand slowed and he cupped a large blue blossom they had yet to discuss, but that Nienna could guess would not be suitable for ingesting. “I wanted them to have a defense against others. I want them to remain unharmed.”

“A defense is...a thorn or a pungent scent,” suggested Nienna. “You have created things which will attract the curiosity of others, and potentially harm them.”

“I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you,” he said, his voice cracking. “No one else even considers my ideas. Not since...not since the song.”

In all the retellings of the Music, one part had been left out, for better or for worse. It was the supplication of Melkor, when, as all became silent and in a moment of regret he begged for direction from their father.

He received only silence. 

The others of their rank, including his brother, showed no compassion. Some, in fact, believed the treatment fair for the discord Melkor had caused. Only Nienna had tried to comfort him in the aftermath, and wept for him as he vowed never again to show such a weakness before the others. 

“They are very pretty,” she admitted. “Please, consider the ramifications of what you are creating.”

Melkor stared at the flowers. “I will do better next time,” he said.


	3. Chapter 3

“You must speak with him,” Manwë said firmly. “This cannot continue. This is a mess.”

To say that Arda was a mess was an understatement. The land was shapeless, with parts and pieces disconnected, suspended in the canvas of creation. Even when they all attempted to put together different parts in different places, somehow Melkor would perceive their designs and find ways to undo their craft. 

“I have tried,” said Nienna. 

“What my husband means is that this is truly the last chance you have to get him to change his mind,” said Varda. “We cannot hold others back from intervening. There are stirrings among those who have yet embodied themselves. They see what is happening, and they will not stand by idle. He has only ever considered your advice valid.”

“He is blinded by the designs of his mind,” said Nienna. While it was not something that Nienna would blame on the others, when the Valar descended and began to construct Arda as it was desired by Eru, Manwë’s first comment to his brother had been ‘touch nothing’. 

It meant Melkor had literally touched everything, be it created by himself or others. He had not stopped at touching, but moved to tearing apart the very fabric of creation. Nienna made several appeals to him, but even as his companion, she was unable to sway him, and would not admit to the others that too long a time in his presence would find her siding with him. She had long stopped approaching him, and yet she almost considered it when Varda said to her, “Dost thou not love thy husband?”

“I do love him,” said Nienna. “But I also love myself, and if I must choose, then I choose not to go to him. Do what you must.”

It seemed such a far cry from how things had been before they came to make physical the desires of their Father conveyed to them through his Song. There was a time when she would not have considered such a harsh turn of events. There was a time when she might have gone to him. Those were far happier times.


	4. Chapter 4

“I made something else for you.”

They were still in the Time of Thought. Once more, they met in the ether, in the place which would be the basis for Lórien’s Gardens. Animals were more plentiful now, and came in diverse shapes and sizes. Nienna was sitting on the grass, surrounded by pheasants, chipmunks, bonobos, and gazelles. There was a zebra calf beside her, head upon her lap. “Did you create more plants?” She did not mean to sound hesitant, but knew her voice did not exude confidence in his latest venture.

Love has a way of muting otherwise noticeable uncertainty. “No. I made something even better.” He sat down with her in the grass and looked down into a pocket on the breast of his robe. “Several somethings. An entire colony.”

Nienna leaned forward and peered closer, hearing a buzzing. “Are they all in your pocket?”

“No. Just one so that I could show you.” Melkor poked a finger into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand, there was a striped insect clinging to him. “Here it is.”

Nienna held out her hand and the creature crawled onto her. “It seems harmless enough,” she said as the insect tentatively crawled along her fingers. 

“It is a pollinator,” Melkor said excitedly. “I took butterflies and I made them sturdier, with smaller wings. And look here! They have pouches to keep pollen in so that they can travel around with it and be more efficient than butterflies.”

“Do they come in different colors?” asked Nienna. 

Melkor furrowed his brow. “Do you think they should?”

“Butterflies and flowers go together so beautifully, with all of their different colors and shapes and sizes,” explained Nienna. “Butterflies are like flowers in flight.”

“I know. You have told me before how much you like them,” Melkor said. “You have also worried about how fragile they are, and how you’ve seen birds, toads, snakes, and even monkeys eat them,” he said, eyes warily on the bonobos. “I wanted to make something that could fly faster and avoid being eaten.”

“These have been valid considerations,” admitted Nienna. “You said that they have pouches to collect the pollen. Where would they put the pollen? Do they know to take it to the different flowers to create fruits and nuts?”

“Not exactly. They are doing an incredible amount of work far better than butterflies can. They deserve a reward. They take the pollen and nectar they collect back to their hives and they can store it and create a sweet food from it that others can eat, too.”

Nienna tried not to look too surprised that Melkor had not only created a helpful creature, but one that fit into the societies of both flora and fauna. “Forgive me, but I feel as if something is missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“This will sound terrible to accuse, but everything you have made thus far has been...questionable in some way. Poisonous flowers, mammals with sharp teeth, lizards that spit poison, snakes with fangs that drip venom...I expected this creature would be similar.”

Melkor was quiet as Nienna gently petted the insect. “Would you be mad if it had a defense?”

Nienna stilled her hand. “What did you do?”

“I...I could not leave it entirely helpless,” Melkor said. “It has a thorn on its hindquarters. Now, let me explain,” he said as she began to open her mouth in objection. “It is dedicated to its work, and it does the work it does not only to pollinate plants but to support the hive. If it does not have a way to defend, then can you imagine how often others would steal away the food from the hive? So I gave it a means to protect itself, but at the cost of its own life. It can sting only once, for the thorn is barbed and will lodge into the creature that attacks it, and when the insect pulls away it will lose that part of its body and perish shortly after. It will only defend to protect the hive or itself, and though it may be perceived to attack, it will only do so in defense of the hive.”

“Everything you create is dangerous in some way or another,” Nienna said as she transferred the creature back to Melkor.

“But even you must admit that this is a far cry from a poisonous berry.”

“Does it have venom?”

Melkor frowned. “Yes, but just once is not likely to kill someone. It would take several stings, and if that is the case, there is a good possibility that the behavior was malicious.”

“I suppose it could be worse,” Nienna finally decided.

It was approval, even though it was veiled in uncertainty, and Melkor reveled in it. “I will consider other colors for you, my queen,” he said as he boldly took hold of her hand as his creature flew towards a cluster of open blossoms in a tree. “Ah, and I forgot that part. These creatures bow to no king, for they have at the heart of their hive a queen. In honor of you,” he added in case she had not made the connection.

Nienna placed her other hand upon their joined hands. “Will you sit with me here a while as we consider the remaining themes of the Song? For soon the world will be made as He envisioned it, and I would have you sit beside me after the creations are made into being.”

Melkor placed his other hand over hers and nodded. “I will.”

“And will you strive to bring order back to your singing, and to right the wrongs you brought to the music from your travels afar?” Nienna realized it might have been too much too soon, but it did not stop her from trying.

Melkor tensed. “Let us enjoy this moment,” he suggested. 

\---------

Moments of peace were few. It was not long after that when everything seemed to fall apart. They took each other as husband and wife, and had they remained removed from Arda, perhaps they would have had happiness. Too much seemed to happen, too much that could not be forgotten. 

Yet, when he was unchained and returned, little time passed before she sought him out, and they renewed their vows. He seemed changed, and perhaps even a little frightened at the thought of again losing the few things that brought him happiness. His counsel was sought by many, and his advice was sound and calm--perhaps attributed in part to the Valië who sat by his side. 

There were all the things no one ever knew, that she would not divulge to others. Returned, he was claustrophobic. He could not abide long in small rooms or closed spaces. Clothing that was too tight caused panic, be it a sleeve or shirt collar, and there was an aversion to darkness. They lived in a house with windows on every conceivable outward facing wall. He refused to delve underwater (though it may have been more due to Ulmo’s insistence that he was not and would never be reformed.) 

Often in these, Tulkas would visit Nienna in private when Melkor was not present. He would ask questions aplenty and analyze everything she told him about her husband. He, like Ulmo, did not think Melkor had truly repented, and kept a close watch on all his doings. 

Nienna felt he had--or perhaps, she just wanted to believe he had, even if she, too, had her doubts. Her first inklings that something might be wrong came upon her when they sat in Lórien’s Garden, watching the butterflies and bees fly about, and no matter how much she tried to bring the conversation back to the flora and fauna of Valinor, Melkor kept returning to the Noldor. “Do you think they might surpass us in craft some day?”

“I do not think they will in all things, but some might,” mused Nienna. “Some of them are very clever.”

“Who among them would you say is the most clever?”

Nienna held her arm up as a butterfly lazily flittered around them. It landed and slowly lifted and lowered its wings. “If I had to choose one, then I would say Fëanor son of Finwë. He is very focused on his craft. I believe he will reach his goals of capturing light in stone some day. He is very passionate and skilled.”

“I wonder if they will still say that when he succeeds, or if he will be cast out as I was,” mused Melkor. 

“You must realize those are two different sets of circumstances.”

“Are they though?” Melkor shifted so that he could settle his head upon Nienna’s lap and look up at her. “Do you still love me?”

Nienna coaxed the butterfly to continue on its way and ran her fingers through Melkor’s hair. “Of course I do, husband.”

“I see. And yet, I am not trusted by my wife.”

Nienna flinched. “I do not understand--”

Melkor interrupted with laughter. “Do you think I do not know? I have seen you in the shadows, speaking with Tulkas. I assume you are discussing your untrustworthy husband.”

Nienna withdrew her hand. “He came to me.”

“And yet you did not send him away.”

“Trust and love are not mutually exclusive,” answered Nienna.

“Mmm. I have work to do.” Melkor sat up and then stood. “I expect not to be home for a few days, in case you wish to invite Tulkas for a talk about me.”

As Nienna watched Melkor leave, she wondered whether he was just generally upset or if he was vengeful. Was it true that she had not trusted him? Had she ever really trusted him? 

She almost sought out Tulkas at that moment, but it felt premature. If only she had, perhaps she might have stopped some of the events that occurred from happening. Then again, there was always a question in her mind about Melkor and the Music. If Eru had not intended for discord, why would He have created Melkor? It was an explanation in her mind every time things happened in excess, though the destruction of the Two Trees was where her patience ended.

It was Varda who approached her after the Noldorin exiles left Valinor. “If we find your husband--”

Nienna wiped her tears and held up a hand. “I told you once before. Do what you must.”


	5. Chapter 5

The last time she saw him was just before his judgement. She was given leave, as his spouse, to take as much time as she wished before the pronouncement of doom. In the room he was in, a small cage, really, he looked even smaller and more helpless than expected. Even for all his armor, it was battered from battle. His face was slashed and scarred, and his hands still carried the mark of burns on his palms, never to heal. She tried not to look at his legs, for his feet were missing from mid-calf down. This she had been warned about before entering, but it did not make it any less shocking to see.

If he noticed, he said nothing. “I am sorry.”

The words were tired, as if he had practiced them the entire journey back to Valinor and all through his trial. She did not believe them, and what was worse, he seemed not to believe them, either. “I should think, if you were truly sorry, we would not be here right now,” she whispered.

He hung his head. The ears drooped down. 

His next words were slightly more shocking than the sight of him without his feet. “I am frightened.”

“Well. At least that is something I can believe.”

“I do not think there is anything you can say this time that will make them change their minds,” Melkor said.

“This time I said nothing.”

Melkor looked up. Evidently, he had feelings, but they swirled together into something unreadable. “I thought you loved me,” he finally said.

NIenna said nothing, but looked down to realize she had balled up her hand into a fist. She turned to leave, but just as she was about to push the door open that would sever her from her husband, she looked over her shoulder and said, “It is because I love you that I do this. You were never happy here. You were never happy there. You were never happy with yourself. I kept hoping that you would recognize that everything you thought you needed was unnecessary and everything you actually needed you already had. The only time you were not destroying others--and yourself--was the last time you were by yourself.”

His ears drooped down even more. “The Void.” His left ear twitched. “None of this would have happened if--”

“None of this would have happened if you actually loved me.” Nienna glanced at him again, but as he was about to open his mouth, she held up her hand. “If there is any speck of the person I married still within the darkness I see before me, grant me this, and say no more. Let me have this last word. Allow me the opportunity to be right, even if you do not believe it.”

There was silence, but just as Nienna was about to leave, she heard him ask, “Is there no chance I might be forgiven by all of you?”

“After...this? After everything you did? Think about it. Then think about whether or not you want to ask me that again. Consider whether your brother could fathom such a thing. You have set in motion much which cannot be undone. As for myself, I cannot forgive you anymore. Too often have I offered you forgiveness, and too often have you squandered it.”

Melkor hung his head. “It is deserved that my actions should be unforgiven and that I should be unloved.”

Nienna stared at him, this broken, defeated creature, once full of greatness and power, now sitting on the floor, awkwardly adjusting to his missing appendages. “I can love you without forgiving you. I do not know if you will ever be able to do the same for yourself.” She placed her hand upon the handle of the door. “Farewell, Morgoth.”

**Author's Note:**

> A note from Zhie: Please note that this was written for TRSB, which requires that artists comment on the works written by the author, yet does not demand reciprocity that the author provide feedback or commentary to the artist in the same public forum, such as on their Deviant Art page. I would like to apologize to all artists that you are put in what I believe to be an unfair position. While comments are always appreciated, forced comments are tyrannical. I am deeply sorry to all artists who are forced to leave comments, as this should be seen as a collaborative work. When an author and illustrator work together, the illustrator is not expected to write a review for the author's work. This is turning what should be an equal collaboration into an exchange scenario, which I believe demeans the work that the artists put into their part of the collaboration.
> 
> GloomyChamomile, when I saw this piece in previews, I kept scrolling back to it, but I felt I didn't know enough about Nienna to do justice the strong, powerful woman you had portrayed in your art. When it was still available after the first round, I was shocked. This was on my top ten favorites from the pieces this year. I recall sitting at my desk looking at it, refreshing the spreadsheet, waiting for it to turn green, waiting for the number to come up on the lists for stragglers and second picks. I had only planned to write one piece this year, but after a few more hours, some chats with others on discord, and a message to the mods, I decided it would truly be a shame if someone didn't run with the idea you conceived. Literally, this is what I sent the mods:
> 
> "...and I know I said I wouldn’t do it, but #100 is still unclaimed, isn’t it?"
> 
> And so here we are. An unexpected journey with Nienna, Melkor, and you. Your finished piece is perfect, and while I still believe a lot of people passed up the chance to work with such a great piece, I am very happy to have had the opportunity. Thank you.


End file.
